Blur
by Not Just a Nerd
Summary: Katherine. Elena. He never noticed when the thin line separating them became a blur. DAMON/ELENA. One-shot


**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries**

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_He dreams. He dreams about the 1800s when life was still simple and he was still human. He dreams about the peaceful green town where he lived. He dreams about beautiful glowing dresses and curly locks. The color of the canvas changes. He dreams about blood and churches set on fire and tombs of the undead. And somewhere in the middle of his dreams, everything blurs and he is in a different version of Mystic falls. He hears the sound of familiar laughter and his heart skips a beat. He keeps running, but he never reaches her… _

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"Hey Damon", she offers him a small smile as she waits for his brother in the living room.

He just cocks his head to the side and tries to leave, _accidentally_ bumping with her in the process. "Oops", he mutters, a smirk on his face that changes into a sly grin when he hears her heart-beat quicken.

She shakes her head and breathes out a puff of air, and that's when he knows he's staring at her. He's gone in super speed.

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_She exists hundred years later. She is different. She lives differently. She talks differently. She dresses differently. She thinks differently. Yet, it's the same face, it's the same eyes. And it's the same feeling. _

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It's a family night. She insisted that the two brothers sit together and have a civil talk, and so here they are, and here she is, ensuring that the talk stays civil.

He shoots his brother an eye-roll as he speaks _stupid useless_ words of consolation and takes a sip of his wine. When his head has stopped spinning and his vision focuses again, he sees them looking at him in concern.

"Are you alright?" His eyes flicker up to her face as she speaks, and he is _almost _mesmerized by how her face shines in the gentle glow from the fire-place.

But then her face twists into that of Katherine and catches fire, and he hears her desperate cries for help and her helpless screams as she tries to escape. The next thing he knows is that the glass of blood is in his hands and this talk session is over.

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_There's Katherine, there's Elena. There's Stefan, there's him. Two boys, two girls. The equation is easy. But the fact that he is actually even considering about picking Elena instead of Katherine scares him. _

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He stumbles upon them on the road, when they are taking a walk and holding hands. His gaze shifts to their intertwined fingers and his stare turns into a glare and he knows this is going the wrong way again.

"Where are you going?" she asks softly.

He shrugs. "I was just going to grab some dinner." He wonders why he doesn't say the harsh words out clearly, but then again, it is more fun when they are playing this game.

She gulps, fights back the scrunching of her face and sighs. "Damon…"

He looks straight into her eyes. Black, breath-taking eyes. The same eyes that he lost himself in hundreds of years back. The same eyes where he finds a softer side of himself. His gaze intensifies as he thinks, as he tries to understand what exactly it is about these eyes that draws him in.

"I'm wearing Vervain." She breathes out.

He is _almost _caught off-guard by her words and he shakes his head sadly. He doesn't know how many times he will have to tell her that he-was-not-trying-to-compel-her.

"Come on Elena", his brother tugs on her hand, "See you later Damon."

He just cocks his head casually and keeps waking forward.

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_Damon. Katherine. Stefan. Damon. Elena. Stefan. He wonders why he is so cursed that his brother is always playing a part in his love story. Why does a simple straight line always have to be twisted into a triangle? _

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"Katherine doesn't love you." He almost kills Annabelle when he hears these forbidden words from her lips. It's not the words that anger him so much, it's the facts that he has been trying to fight, it's the reality hidden in those words, a reality that he has been trying desperately to avoid. He takes her by her throat and slams her to the wall, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. "Don't", he mutters through gritted teeth and he's gone.

"Katherine doesn't love you", Elena says softly, her hand resting on his shoulder in such a comforting manner that he hates how it soothes him when he should be mad, "Please try to understand." The sharp contrast and the sweet blend between the softness in her voice and the conviction behind her words kills him and he shakes his head and breaks free from her grasp. "Don't", he warns.

Before he's gone, he looks back at her stunned face just once to try and figure out what exactly it is that didn't let him attack her. But like everything else in his life, this time too, he has no luck. Or maybe he is lucky that he still does not acknowledge this fact.

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_Sometimes he wonders if Stefan is ever going to turn her. Sometimes he thinks about all the times the three of them will have in the future. Eternity is a really long time, and sometimes he feels that some day he will get his chance. What he doesn't know is if he wants this chance, if the fact that he is thinking about this is no indication. _

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He is thirsty. She is wearing a dress that perfectly reveals her neck, and her vervain necklace is off. She walks around his kitchen, humming some catchy tune that sticks to his brain immediately, and rummaging through the cupboards. "Hey, where's the coffee?" she asks casually.

He gets up, runs into the kitchen within the blink of an eye, and he's standing in front of her with the coffee jar in his hands. "Here."

"Thanks" she laughs, shaking her head at him and returning to her work. He walks out, bumping her in the process, a routine happening in their lives that he enjoys _every damn time._

He sits back on the couch and looks at her once. He wonders how she can be so cheerful and so strong. "You want some?" she asks.

He shakes his head and chuckles darkly at her innocence and her consistent effort. "I don't drink _coffee._" His keeps staring at her, his tongue flicks his lips, but he _knows_ it's not blood lust. With every day, it's getting hard to pretend that she is Katherine and these feelings are not for her.

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_He needs blood. He needs blood to live, he needs blood to breathe. He won't flinch an inch when he has to sink his sharp teeth into someone's neck and take his life within seconds. He won't flinch an inch when he has to stab a knife to someone's chest. He won't flinch an inch when he looks into someone's eyes and compels. He still doesn't understand why he never tries to do any of these with her. _

_And he still doesn't understand why she is not scared of him. He is supposed to be the bad guy. The ruthless blood-sucker. The insane man rendered senseless by love. The wildfire that destroys everything standing in its way. Isn't she afraid of getting reduced to ashes? _

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He goes feeding on some innocent stranger he found on the street. The dead body lies ruthlessly on the floor, and blood drips down his chin. He turns around and finds her standing there, with a look of disgust and horror in her eyes, but no trace of fear. She looks at the body lying on the floor, her eyes shimmer with tears, and she brings a hand up to cover her mouth. She shoots him a look of contempt and she runs. This is not the first time she's seen a ruthless blood-sucking, but every time, it's the same story. He is not sure if this is the sense of failure or the fear of acknowledging the fact that he's never gong back to the good life.

He sighs. The look on her face has been etched into his memory forever. And suddenly, he can't bring himself to lick the blood off his chin and savor the taste. He wipes at his mouth with a useless piece of cloth.

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_One turned him into a vampire and introduced him to this dark red lust. The other makes his heart race and reminds him of the trace of humanism still left in him. The same face, the same feeling, yet so different. They have such different effects on him; they bring out such different sides of his personality. He's not sure anymore which side he prefers. _

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"Nice", he chimes, taking in the new arrangements she made in the living room to bring the two brothers closer. Honestly? He admires her effort. And he feels _just a little bit_ bad that it's useless. The fuel that starts the fire can never extinguish it, no matter how hard it tries. "Where did you learn to decorate rooms like this?"

She lets out a small laugh. "You don't learn these stuff. You know it." Her gaze falls to the floor and her voice drops. "I heard that Isabella was great at this stuff…." She trails off, looking away.

Isabella, her birth mother whom he turned, for which she probably still blames him. Something happens to his heart at the mention of that name and he's not sure what. And now, he can't even look into her eyes.

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_Anyone who has lived a length of time has regrets. One of the many things that comes with living for thousands of years is thousands of regrets and guilt. He tells himself that he has just one- he couldn't save Katherine. But this time, even he knows he's lying. _

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He tells himself he is kissing her just because she looks like Katherine, but this reason is not working anymore. Because the texture of her lips is different, the way it feels against his is different, the way it trembles makes him shiver, and his heart keeps screaming 'Elena.'

He doesn't even know how they ended up like this in the first place. Just moments ago, they were having a heated spar of words, and then he crashed his lips on hers and…. And it was over. Everything.

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_Katherine. Elena. He never noticed when the thin line separating them became a blur. And now he thinks that maybe he is caught in a triangle in his mind between the two women he loves. Or maybe he has already chosen one... _

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A/N: this is my first attempt at Vampire Diaries and Damon/Elena. Honestly, I will intrude into this fandom depending on the response. So reviews and criticism is much appreciated. Let me know what you think of this. Thanks :) **


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